


Rest Stop on the Way Down

by Riesx



Series: Road to Ruin [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, F/M, Redemption, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riesx/pseuds/Riesx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The road to redemption is never an easy one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rest Stop on the Way Down

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the events from 6.22 "Grave". Pretty much when everyone was wondering what happened to Spike after Africa. And I grew Dawn up a little bit. 
> 
> So, I started writing this little story about 10 years ago when I was (well, I was younger...). It has been languishing on YahooGroups and another archive for years. I thought I'd post them all here to see what you good folk think! They could probably stand some revision and I'll most likely add on as the last entry abruptly ended. Oops! 
> 
> Also, the quote is from "Now You Know" by Full Devil Jacket

This is my answer to everything  
This is my answer to everything  
None are made before their time  
Now you know this could never be justified  
Now you know I could never be satisfied  
Now you know you can't love me if I hide  
Now you know that this little child is terrified

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's not easy. This being alive thing. She doesn't know how   
she came to be here. Supposes that's how it's like for most   
people who get to this point. When they are so strung out on   
life, on drugs, on themselves. It just eats away at the core, this   
empty feeling. She guesses it's the way it's supposed to be.   
At some age, after certain events, one just feels....used up.   
Not right. Eschewed. 

She snorts, blows another puff of   
smoke out the car window and giggles to herself. "Gotta stop   
taking those psych courses. Damned if you're not making   
any sense, Bit." She talks to herself nowadays, imagining   
what he would say to her. Trying to see that old familiar grin,   
blue eyes twinkling with hidden understanding. A look for   
her alone. And yeah, she gets choked up. She'll admit it. But   
it's these things that keep her going. It's what got her out of   
SunnyDale the first day after high school graduation. She   
packed her bags, left a note for Buffy, got in her car and left.   
Just went. Anywhere is fine, she told herself. Just as long as   
it wasn't there. She didn't even bring a road map. 

Because as   
much as she'd like to deny it, she knows where her   
destination lies, where the journey goes. "Where the fucking   
sidewalk ends." She mutters this to herself, flicking the   
burned-down clove out of the tinted car window. There were   
two bad habits that she picked up a few months ago. Cussing   
and smoking. She didn't know why she did either. Smoking   
made her feel a bit like shit, but she wanted to feel that way.   
She didn't think it was right if not. And curse words were just   
that: words. Simple. She's been on the road for three   
months now and she knows she's closing in. 

On *him*. 

The few tips she acquired from a local Behavrin demon have led   
her down a lonely stretch of highway in the backwaters of   
some small town in some small state. Her sense of direction   
is so screwed, she could be in Africa for all she knows.   
However, she feels his pull. The unmistakable urge that grips   
her, inching her along the country, whispering his name in   
her ear. She glances at the speedometer while changing the   
radio station and sees that she's nearing 90. The rising sun   
lingers on the horizon and fear seizes her heart. She has to   
get to him before it does. They told her that he had been   
muttering about ending it. That he would stand outside and   
face the sun. Let himself be consumed by the fire. 

And for whatever reason, the same reason why she has spent the   
whole summer tracking him down, she would risk her own   
soul to see that that does not happen. 

She drives faster towards the small motel that is only a dot in   
the distance. Pressing her foot on the accelerator, she   
whispers a small prayer. "Can't be late. Can't be late. Can't be   
late." She echoes in a slightly deranged tone, sounding like a   
jacked-up White Rabbit. The sun rises higher and sets all her   
nerve endings aflame. Hope almost gone, her heart leaps into her throat   
as she recognises the figure kneeling on the dusty hardpan.   
Spike. She comes close, almost clipping the "Vacancy" sign   
as she brakes hard, scattering miniature clouds in her wake.   
He is still far away, but near enough, and she can clearly   
make out every expression on his face. Every movement is   
like a plea and she hesitates for the briefest of moments, not   
sure if this is the same man she has come to save. He   
gesticulates on the ground, crying, yelling out to the heavens   
and awaiting the sun's first kiss.

"What do you mean.....You're the Utmost? You're the   
Highest? I don't need you! It's not- I can bloody well do   
without this! SHUT UP! Just shut up and take me! Please?"   
His voice is raw and tempered with the slightest bit of   
insanity. 

She is almost afraid to go to him, make her presence known.   
But the creeping light erases all doubt and spurs her into   
action. She runs out of the dilapidated car, long brown hair   
fluttering behind in a partially tangled mess, stopping his   
almost-sacrifice with a hug and a tug and the whisper of,   
"You can't leave me now."

He is stunned into silence by this vision and he utters,   
"Dawn. But I didn't kill you. Never would-" He looks at her   
and she is struck with the thought that he has been crying.   
Red-rimmed eyes and broken posturing are all he is now.   
She wants to cry herself, seeing him so small in her arms.   
She stands and he trepidatiously takes the hand that she   
offers.

"We need to leave. We need to go." She cannot help but   
shudder as she grips his near emaciated arm to help him   
rise. 

"Will you make it better? Are we going home? Don't wanna   
be there. Say we're not." He sounds like a child when he asks   
this. No more the man she once knew from her younger   
years. 

Dawn situates her old friend (crush. killer. nemesis) into the   
passenger seat and stares towards the now illuminated   
morning sky. She never planned her search this far, hope   
being a long-forgotten dream. She shrugs noncommitally   
and walks around to her side of the car, lighting up another   
clove as she does so. She doesn't want to go anywhere,   
really. Just wants to hole up and find out the truth. No matter   
how ugly. She figures she can take it. Has the scars to prove   
she's been through much worse and survived. And that's all   
they have to do right now. Survive.


End file.
